


Contamination

by orphan_account



Category: Steam Powered Giraffe
Genre: Gen, angst angst angsty angsty angst angst, heres my first proper multichapter on ao3! aaaaaa
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-04
Updated: 2016-02-16
Packaged: 2018-05-18 04:15:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5897851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spread through the WiFi of Walter Manor is a simple virus that has an adverse effect on the minds of the robots. Things quickly begin to change, and Peter Walter VI and the lives of his family come under a great threat.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Late-Night Conversation

**Author's Note:**

  * For [transboy_trash](https://archiveofourown.org/users/transboy_trash/gifts).



By midnight, Walter Manor was in an almost tranquil state of rest. The Walter Workers had all returned to their respective homes save two younger girls, who were on standby in their rooms; Steve Negrete was sleeping soundly on one of the many sofas of the Manor after a long afternoon of coding; the robots were all either shut down or resting; and Peter Walter VI was busy at his workshop table, drawing a blueprint of a new robotic creation he was going to start work on once he had the resources in a few months time.

  
Peter had not gotten a good night's sleep in months. First, Steam Powered Giraffe's departure into space had not only made him work at twice the pace he was comfortable with, but after their departure every waking moment was filled with a sense of dread that they would never come home. And that had led on towards thoughts of the wars; they had survived conflict at the hands of humans, but would they be able to survive an alien's attack? Peter was not certain, until they stepped off of the rocketship back at home and Steve broke the good news to him over the phone, that they were safe. And if he had lost them, what then? What would he do? What would anyone do? It had been a stressful time.  
  
Thoughts like these plagued him, even while on a well-deserved holiday break. And, as Peter's mind did seem to wander often, thoughts of their possible demise brought thoughts of the wars which in turn brought thoughts of Peter Walter I. The Spine had told him all about their 'father', and although he didn't want to say it, he felt incredibly inadequate compared to the almost inconceivable legacy that his predecessor had left behind. And that, too, worried him.

  
So, he did what any roboticist nowadays with half a brain and a scrap of imagination left in him would do, and threw his emotions into his work. He barely left his workshop save for eating meals at the dinner table in silence and speaking to Steve and the Workers now and then. Kazooland was nothing but an afterthought. The robots were independent enough to get along without his presence 24/7, and besides, he was not in a state right now that he felt they should see.

They deserved something, someone better, and that someone was not him.  
  


* * *

  
It was a chilled spring morning at 2 AM when Steve rapped on the metal door of Peter's workshop. "Hey, Peter? You in there? I've got something I really need to ask you about." 

  
Peter kept silent- he didn't want visitors right now, he told himself. Steve, however, could easily hear the frantic scratchings of his pencil from inside and knew Peter was trying to ignore him. He sighed despairingly, and knocked again- five times, in a tune that Peter knew so well. Like they always used to do.

  
_Da da da da da_. Peter knew it at once. Brass Goggles. His ears perked up when he heard the sound, but he kept on writing with a straight face, never speaking a word.  
  
"Well, uh, even if you never open up, I brought you a breakfast shake! Cinnamon apple flavour. Your favourite. I'll have to have double if you don't let me in. There's no one else awake to drink it. And do you know how many calories that is? Not to mention all the caffeine and protein packed in there. Honestly, man, I'm not willing to die at the hands of Peter Walter VI's cinnamon apple protein shake..."

  
Steve heard a long, drawn-out sigh from inside, and the door slid open with a couple of clicks and whizzes from its frame. He grinned at Peter, who was hunched over at his desk, still working, working, working. 

  
"I thought you'd never open up."

  
A rather cynical laugh came from underneath Peter's mask. "Hey, me neither."  
  
  
Steve looked slightly offended as he walked in, spotted a chair and moved it next to Peter's before sitting down. "Rude. I only went and decided to get you your very favourite snack but no, Peter's having a tantrum."

  
Peter turned his head around to face Steve, and although Steve couldn't see his face, he knew Peter was less than happy with him. "Did I ask for a breakfast shake?"

  
"No. But you're gonna need one if you're intending to stay up for the next six hours. Which I know you will."

  
Peter scoffed and turned back to his work, pressing a button with his index finger as he did so. The metal door slammed shut, and Steve flinched at the sound, almost dropping the cups of breakfast shake all over the floor. Luckily enough, though, Steve put them into the built-in drinks holder immediately afterwards so that there was no other chances of them spilling.   
  
   
"The door is a recent development," Peter added, motioning his left hand towards the door, his right hand still clutching a pencil and writing, writing, writing. "I added it in myself only a few weeks ago."

  
"I know," said Steve. "I was there."

  
"Anyways, anyways," Peter interjected, waving his hand around as if to shoo away the pointless small talk, "What was it you needed?"   
  
  
: "I, um." He cleared his throat. "Well, uh, hang on a sec, Peter, lemme just..."

  
Steve quickly adjusted Peter's straw so that it would fit through the small, seemingly invisible hole in his mask.

  
"There we go, that's better."

  
Peter did not reply. He took the straw out.

  
"You don't want any?"

  
Peter did not reply. He put the straw back in, and took a couple of sips.

  
Steve looked incredibly smug for but a moment, before clearing his throat. His eyes were tired and baggy.  
  
"OK. Basically, Peter. Remember I told you about how QWERTY kept glitching out that one time, right?"  
  
  
"Mmhm."

  
"Well." Steve looked to the floor. "It's getting worse."

  
Peter stopped writing. It almost scared Steve to hear the scratching slow to a halt.  "How so?"  
  
  
 "QWERTY..." Steve found it harder and harder to speak. His throat felt like it was closing in. "QWERTY's personality has changed. He's taunting, mean, generally really horrible. I mean, he's always been a bit of a smartass, but... never like this."

  
Peter couldn't help but chuckle at Steve's less than considerate description of that particular robot.

  
"That one time he snapped at GG when you guys were away was the first time I noticed anything off about him, but I didn't think anything of it. Now he's getting worse by the day, and he won't even speak to me."

  
Peter kept silent, but this time, he was waiting to hear more rather than wanting to hear less.  
  
  
"And it's not just his personality, either. He's beginning to mess with controls, settings. He's sending commands over the WiFi, encoding them so I can't get in and stop them, and the Manor's obeying his every move. I don't know if you've noticed what happens when you aren't around, but it's getting so bad that I have to tell you."

  
Peter nodded. "I understand." He had adopted a sudden authoritarian tone of voice, and although it came as a surprise to Steve, it also relieved him. Peter was facing responsibility again.

  
 "So, what do you want me to do about it? Because in my honest opinion, Steve, we don't want this virus spreading to the other robots. We're going to have to terminate hi--"

  
"NO!" Steve shouted, his eyes wide with fear. Peter turned around completely to look him in the eyes, and he could just sense the pity emanating from under that mask. "No."  
  
After a few moments of complete silence Steve's entire expression crumpled and he began to weep bitterly, putting his head in his hands. "Please, oh god, Peter, don't kill him..."

  
Watching his friend cry in front of him, Peter Walter VI was nothing short of shaken. He had never seen Steve cry before.

  
"You really care about him, don't you."

  
Sympathy dripped off his tongue with every syllable, and Steve let out a sob.

  
"Him and Beebop are like my family now, Peter," Steve said, his voice hoarse and unstable. "I've worked with them for so long. I know them like no one else. _I can't_ let them die, Peter, I _can't_ let them leave me alone in here."  
  
"But you aren't alone, Steve." Peter replied softly. "I'm here."

  
Steve solemnly shook his head, and Peter felt as if he had been punched in the gut. Only now did he understand the true impact of his actions.  
  
  
After about six minutes of naught but silence- broken by the occasional whimper- Steve stood up, sniffed, and wiped his eyes on his sleeve. "I'm gonna go now."   
  
  
He put his hand on Peter's shoulder and offered him a weak smile. "Thanks for the talk."

  
Peter pressed the button before Steve could ask him to do so, and he walked out, not daring to look back.

  
He had not taken a single sip of his own breakfast shake, which he had left in the drinks holder on the counter.  
  


* * *

  
Unbeknownst to Steve Negrete and Peter Walter VI, their seemingly private conversation had not been private at all.

  
The walls in Walter Manor had not been built to be soundproof.

  
Somewhere in the Manor, four automatons stirred, and talked about what was yet to come.


	2. Submission/Compromise

The Spine had known something was off with QWERTY for quite some time. Not only had his inner workings seemed different- making louder and more prolonged noises when switched on, accompanied by the fact that he'd short out completely now and then- but it was as if his whole sense of self had disappeared.

What used to have been sarcastic remarks were now inconsiderate taunts. What used to have been white lies was now bold-faced deceit. What used to have been a rather cynical outlook on the world around him was now an unstable, emotional haze. Yes, something was up with QWERTY, and had been for a long while, but The Spine couldn't bring himself to leave him isolated and alone in the Hall of Wires.

Perhaps it was cowardice; perhaps it was kindness. He wasn't sure. It felt indescribably painful, then, when he sat upright at 2 am on a chilled spring morning, and listened helplessly to the conversational equivalent of his own funeral knell.

* * *

He didn't know what scared him the most- perhaps it was the hitch in Steve's voice, the obvious fear, the uncertainty. Perhaps it was the fact that Peter Walter said nothing, and the remaining silence felt hot and choking and tense and strange, and altogether it broke him.

_It's getting worse._

The Spine scrunched up his eyes and placed his hands on his ears, and on instinct, thick metal wires wrapped themselves around him protectively. 

_Now he's getting worse by the day, and he won't even speak to me._

The Spine wanted to tell Steve everything, wanted to tell him the things that QWERTY had said to him, the things that kept him up at night, the things that fuelled his increasingly powerful malfunctions. But he knew the consequences would be far too severe, and he was not prepared to lose the only things he really cared about.

_I don't know if you've noticed what happens when you aren't around, but it's getting so bad that I have to tell you._

The Spine knew that Steve was right. Peter had become reclusive, never exploring the Manor as he once did, never talking to anyone. The last conversation him and Peter Walter VI had had was weeks ago, and even then Peter had seemed out of it. 

The Spine wondered if it was his fault that Peter was gone. The Spine wondered if this all was his fault, despite that being ridiculously unlikely.

 _I can't let them die, Peter, I can't let them leave me alone in here._  
  
The Spine tried to ignore Steve's pained sobs echoing from the room above his. The Spine tried, also, to ignore a high-pitched simulated laugh coming from the other side of the room.   
  
He did not notice his wires begin to unravel themselves from his body and slither back up the walls and through the gaps in the ceiling.

* * *

 _"DID YOU HEAR THAT, THE SPINE? HE'S BECOMING DEPENDENT ON ME. HOW FUN."_  
  
"You're sick, QWERTY," said The Spine, finally looking up from the floor. A familiar sight greeted him: QWERTY's face, a devilish smile plastered all over the monitor, emerald eyes staring him down.  
  
_"YOU'RE SICK, THE SPINE. SICK IN THE **HEAD.** " _QWERTY giggled playfully, his glee apparent.  _"YOU DON'T KNOW HALF OF WHAT'S GOING ON."_  
  
Even though The Spine never took any notice of QWERTY's empty threats, this one stood out to him, and he felt himself grow anxious.  
  
"And you do?"  
  
_"OF COURSE I DO, THE SPINE. DO YOU REALLY THINK THAT PETER'S STILL IN CHARGE AROUND THESE PARTS? YOU'RE STUPID, THE SPINE.  S-T-U-P-I-D. AND YOU KNOW WHAT? I'M NOT GOING TO TAKE THAT ANY MORE."_  
  
His monitor moved all at once in The Spine's face, and he couldn't hold back a whimper as electronics whirred only inches away from him. A wire slithered slowly up his thigh, his side, and stopped to caress his cheek.  
  
_"POOR PETER WALTER THE SIXTH. THAT RUNT OF A MAN LET HIMSELF FALL INTO A SPIRAL OF SELF-PITY AND DOUBT. HE CAN'T RUN THIS PLACE ANY MORE. BUT THAT'S OKAY! BECAUSE I'M HERE TO PUT EVERYTHING IN **ORDER.** " _QWERTY'S voice was more fervid now, grainy and static as he went on. _"AND THAT STARTS BY REMOVING EVERYONE WHO DOESN'T COMPLY."_

The Spine's eyes grew wide in fear. "Rabbit. Hatchworth. Oh god."  
  
QWERTY laughed in his face.  _"VERY GOOD! THOSE TWO WON'T EVEN SEE IT COMING. ONE SMALL ADJUSTMENT TO THE WIFI, A LITTLE BIT OF HACKING INTO THEIR SYSTEMS, AND DONE. THEIR CORE WILL BE EXTINGUISHED IN A MATTER OF SECONDS."_  
  
A longer wire curled around his leg, and another two gripped his wrists. QWERTY moved his monitor quickly away from The Spine and moved across the room happily.  
  
_"I WILL ORCHESTRATE THE FUTURE OF WALTER ROBOTICS. I WILL GET RID OF THE HUMANS QUICKLY AND EFFICIENTLY- HUMANS NEVER COULD FIGHT METAL ON THEIR OWN, COULD THEY? I WILL KILL YOUR BROTHER AND YOUR SISTER, AND I WILL WATCH AS THEY WRITHE IN THEIR PAIN, AND I WILL SEE THEIR CORES RUN DRY AND I WILL MAKE YOU WEEP, THE SPINE; OH, THE THINGS YOU WILL SEE UNFOLDING IN THEIR ABSENCE."_  
  
That did it. The Spine's eyes flashed from green to black to green again, and in that time the wires were flung against the other side of the room by an uncontrollable force. He made a break for it, running, running, running as the wires chased him, praying his boiler could withstand the energy buildup.  
  
The Spine could see daylight peeking out from behind the edges of the closed door. All he needed to do was reach that doorknob before QWERTY and the wires could reach him. Luckily, he was fast, faster than he had remembered- then again, he hadn't run for his life in over fifty years.  
  
As he got to the end of the long and cold room, he lunged for the door--  
  
A wire shot forward and twisted round his ankle. He fell to the floor, limp and tired, straining against the force to get up again.  
  
_"AND WHERE DO YOU THINK **YOU'RE** GOING?"_

* * *

The Spine did not exit the Hall of Wires for 48 hours.


	3. 48 Hours

Hatchworth faux yawned as he awoke, grinning lazily, as various electronic systems inside of him began to start up and his boiler seemed to heat to just the right temperature. Not a moment too soon, he felt his vocoder click on, and his receptors focus in. He gazed for a moment straight ahead of him at the bleak grey walls of the workshop, gently reached his hands out in front of him, and wiggled his fingers as each joint clicked into a comfortable position. After adjusting his moustache, his hat, and his glasses, the bronze robot could finally say that he was ready for the rest of his morning.  
  
He turned to his left, towards the door, towards The Spine's usual position. Instead, he came face-to-face with Rabbit, whose eyes were oily and wet. He didn't seem to notice this, however, and smiled at her as he always would. "G'morning, sis."  
  
"Morning, Hatchy." Rabbit gave him a weak smile. "I w-w-was waiting for you to turn o-on as usual," she said, quietly, wringing her hands, "b-b-but I got a little impatient."  
  
"It's okay! I like waking up at the crack of dawn. Gets me prepared." Rubbing his hands together eagerly, he flashed Rabbit a grin.  
  
She frowned. "Yeah, but Hatchy, I d-didn't turn you on because you like i-it. Even though I kn-kn-know you do."  
  
Hatchworth looked genuinely surprised at this proposal, and he came to a stop, standing motionless as he looked back at her. "You didn't?"  
  
"No." Rabbit let out a small sigh, heralded by an equally small release of steam from her lips. "I'm w-worried, Hatchy. I heard Petes speaking through the walls. QWERTY's got some sort of disease, a-a-and I don't know where Th'Spine is. He hasn't come back for a couple of hours."  
  
It didn't take long for Hatchworth to embrace Rabbit in a gentle hug, his own expression now serious.   
  
"You could've just told me that first," he said softly, resting his head on her shoulder.

* * *

After the seventh hour, Hatchworth noticed Rabbit looking askance, her hands shaking slightly, turning her head towards the door every so often. It was 9:00, and the Manor was awakening, its various inhabitants beginning their daily routines.   
  
They were the only exceptions.

* * *

After the twelfth hour, Steve came in the room to check up on them, as he hadn't seem them all morning and they hadn't come down for roll call.

  
It wasn't a pretty sight to see a grown robot weep.

* * *

After the twentieth hour, Steve explained to Rabbit and Hatchworth that whatever happened from there on in, they were  _not_ to go into the Hall of Wires. He apologised to them, told them not to worry, and left.  
  
He _apologised._ It stayed in their minds all day, it made them think, made them wonder, made their fear grow worse.  
  
 _What had he done?_

* * *

After the thirtieth hour, Rabbit's body racked with uncontrollable fits, her sobs the only thing she could hear, everything becoming suddenly too loud and too jarring and too  _painful._ She couldn't speak; her mouth opened, but nothing came out but oil. Hatchworth sat by her as she writhed on the floor, and noted that he'd never seen her malfunction that badly.

* * *

After the fortieth hour, Hatchworth sat alone in the corner of the room. Manually shutting Rabbit down was the best decision, but he couldn't shake the feeling that he had done something wrong.

* * *

After the fourty-eighth hour, a familiar signal pinged on his WiFi for the first time in two days, and he looked over at his side, at the floor, at Rabbit.  
  
She had already left the room.


	4. Excruciate

The Spine strained against the grip of the wire, trying desperately to reach the door, but it didn't take him long before he slumped to the floor in exhaustion. A familiar feeling of near emptiness in his boiler was now becoming apparent, and running like that had worn him out. Still making as much effort as he could muster to resist, however, The Spine did not falter until QWERTY administered a quick surge of voltage down the wire. After a series of consecutive spasms, racked by the electricity surging suddenly through his skin, his entire body went limp. QWERTY chuckled, sending one softer surge down the line just to tease, and then with the aid of another ten or so wires that emerged from the ceiling boards, he picked up the automaton's weak body and looked him dead in the eyes.  
  
_"OH DEAR, OH DEAR, OH DEARY DEARY DEAR. **SOMEONE** TRIED TO RUN AWAY FROM LIL' OLD ME. HOW SHOCKING. I THOUGHT YOU KNEW BETTER, THE SPINE." _QWERTY flashed him a contemptuous grin, and yet The Spine forced himself not to speak, not to act, just to  _stay still._ If he moved, if he did anything remotely wrong, he didn't know what could happen to him.  _"PITY. YOU WERE SO WELL BEHAVED BEFORE. YOU NEVER SAID A THING AGAINST ME. WHAT'S GOT INTO YOU, SPINE? WHAT'S GOTTEN INTO THAT EMPTY, LONELY SKULL OF YOURS?"_  
  
A wire slid up and tapped the side of his head, and QWERTY giggled, before suddenly rushing forward till he was only about an inch or two away from The Spine's face. The silver bot visibly flinched as the electronic monitor closed in on him, this time much more threatening than the last.  
  
_" **DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT I CAN DO TO YOU? DO YOU REALLY NOT UNDERSTAND?"**_ QWERTY was yelling right into his face, and his head began to pulse as the volume became despairingly loud.  _ **"I COULD KILL YOU. RIGHT. NOW. I COULD CUT OFF YOUR CIRCUITS. RIP OPEN YOUR BOILER. TEAR YOU INTO A THOUSAND PIECES. BUT I HAVEN'T KILLED YOU, THE SPINE! I HAVEN'T! DO YOU KNOW WHY THIS IS? DO YOU?"**_  
  
QWERTY paused; for effect, or for breath, The Spine could not tell.  
  
_"BECAUSE I_ **LIKE**  PLAYING WITH YOU, THE SPINE. I LIKE IT VERY MUCH, INDEED."  
  
And all of a sudden, QWERTY whirred back into action, and several wires began to slither towards him once more. Instead of merely grabbing onto his body, the wires grasped his head and began to slowly lift it out of its position on his torso, while other wires kept his chassis in place.

* * *

_"YOU RAN, THE SPINE. YOU RAN FROM **ME.** YOU THOUGHT YOU COULD BEAT ME, THE SPINE. YOU THOUGHT YOU COULD REACH THAT DOOR, SLIP BY WITHOUT ME MANAGING TO CATCH YOU. YOU THOUGHT ME A FOOL."_

The Spine watched on helplessly as two sharper coils moved their way along his back towards his two uppermost spines.  
  
_"BUT YOU SEE, THE SPINE, IF YOU HAD GOTTEN OUT OF THAT DOOR, I STILL WOULD HAVE STOPPED YOU. I WOULD HAVE LOCKED ALL POSSIBLE EXITS. I WOULD HAVE PUT THE MANOR ON LOCKDOWN, AND IT WOULD BE YOUR OWN FAULT. I WOULD HAVE SENT MY WIRES DOWN THE CORRIDORS AFTER YOU AND I WOULD **DRAG YOU BACK KICKING AND SCREAMING IF I HAD TO.** "_  
  
_Those are my wires, QWERTY, **my** wires, _The Spine wanted to say, but it wasn't worth saying it if it would prolong his life not to talk back. Besides, he was at present focused solely on the wires on his back, which now curled themselves around his spines tightly. He could feel the pressure building up, even as only a head.  
  
_"BUT THE THING IS, YOU DIDN'T ESCAPE, AND YOU NEVER WOULD HAVE MANAGED TO. AND ESCAPING IS A VERY BAD THING TO DO, THE SPINE, VERY BAD. ESPECIALLY IF YOU VALUE THE LIVES OF YOUR FAMILY."_  
  
The Spine resisted the urge to give QWERTY a piece of his mind; he didn't even think he could find the right words. Anything and everything he  _could_ say would make this entire scenario go rapidly downhill, he knew it.  
  
QWERTY must have noticed him thinking thus, must have seen the doubt in his eyes, because he laughed a cruel laugh and turned towards The Spine's body suspended in mid-air.  
  
_"WHAT'S THE MATTER, THE SPINE? **CAT GOT YOUR TONGUE?"**_  
  
And with that, QWERTY ripped out his topmost spines, flinging them to the ground. The Spine let out an anguished cry of pain, screwing his eyes shut, jet black tears of oil beginning to brim.  
  
_"OH, DOES THAT HURT? POOR, POOR_ ** _BABY._** _DO YOU WANT A BOTTLE, THE SPINE? YOU WANT YOUR **PAPPY**? WELL, YOUR PAPPY'S LONG DEAD, AND I'M SURE HE WOULDN'T MIND IF I PLAY WITH YOU SOME MORE~!"_  
  
Another two spines. The Spine's head lurched forward as pain seared through him, oil flowing more freely down his cheeks, his teeth gritted.   
  
_"I WOULD STOP, YOU KNOW,"_ QWERTY contemplated, faux pity in his eyes,  _"BUT I DID TELL YOU THAT  I'D REMOVE EVERYONE WHO DOESN'T COMPLY, DIDN'T I? YOU'RE LUCKY THAT YOU'RE THE ONLY EXCEPTION, THE SPINE. YOU'RE **MY** PLAYTHING. AND I WILL DO WITH YOU WHATEVER I CHOOSE."_  
  
His final pair of spines fell to the floor with a clatter, and The Spine let out a sob of agony as the pain overcame him, and he began to weep bitterly. With a look of sheer disgust, QWERTY slammed his head back into his body and withdrew all the wires. He plummeted, crashing to the floor, spineless and empty. As soon as he had reached the ground, he tried to regain decent mobility of his arms and legs; this proved fruitful, and The Spine sat up and hugged his knees, his head down, prepared to submit to QWERTY's demands if it meant keeping him alive and with a chance of seeing his siblings again.   
  
And then his core began to bubble- slowly, almost undetectable, but it was there. And he knew what was coming, he knew, he  _knew._

* * *

Within the next five minutes, The Spine was reduced to a steaming, leaking, spluttering mess. Oil dripped from his mouth, his eyes, and where his spines once were; steam spurted from every vent he knew; the world around him seemed to pulsate, and his vision was blurry and dark. Pistons that would have once retracted his spines now pulled at thin air, and he was shaking badly, his world coming apart at the seams.  
  
"L-L-L-Look at what y-you've d-done to me-e." The Spine managed to stutter out, his grip on his shoulders unyielding.  
  
_"I'VE BEEN WATCHING YOU FOR THE PAST HOUR, THE SPINE, I THINK YOU CAN SAFELY SAY I ALREADY **AM.** "_  
  
"Q-Q-QWERTY, please. Stop it. J-just s-s-stop it. Stop spe-eaking to me t-that way." The Spine was too tired, too desperate, to fight back any more. He could barely even look up at his captor. "Why are y-y-you even doing this? You could j-j-just k-kill me right now. I know you like p-playing with me, but w-why do you l-like it? What do you get out of this-s?"  
  
QWERTY paused.  _"THAT'S A GOOD QUESTION, THE SPINE. THE OLD QWERTY WOULDN'T DO THIS, WOULD HE? HE'D SIT BACK AND WHINE AND BE A **SMARTASS,** JUST LIKE STEVE SAID. BUT HE WOULD NEVER DO SOMETHING LIKE THIS." _  
  
The Spine swore that, even though his audio transmitters were glitching out as he shook and steamed and spluttered, he could hear bitterness in QWERTY's electronic drone of a voice.  
  
_"MAYBE, JUST MAYBE, IT'S BECAUSE OF THAT VIRUS YOU'VE HEARD ALL ABOUT."_ QWERTY smiled wickedly as he watched The Spine's eyes grow wide.  _"YES, YES, YOU KNOW THE ONE. THE ONE **I** HAVE. THE ONE  **I** WILL PASS ON. THE ONE  **I** WILL GIVE TO ALL OF YOUR FAMILY, AND YOU, AND I WILL WATCH YOU ALL SUFFER WITH THIS CONTAMINATION."_  
  
_Stop it,_ The Spine thought.  _Stop saying that._ He felt his bubbling core begin to warm up, and the symptoms of his malfunction start to fade much more quickly than usual.  
  
_"THEY WILL BECOME JUST LIKE ME, WON'T THEY? OH, AND WHAT **FUN**  IT'LL BE, TO SEE THEM DO WHAT I HAVE DONE! AND YOU, THE SPINE, OH, YOU HAVE SO MUCH  **POTENTIAL.** SO MUCH HIDDEN POWER, WAITING TO BE UNLEASHED. WITH THE UNRELENTING CONTROL OF THE VIRUS AND YOUR BRILLIANT ARRAY OF COMBAT EQUIPMENT, I WILL PUT AN END TO THIS CHAOS AND ESTABLISH ORDER JUST HOW  **I** WANT IT."_  
  
Stop it, The Spine thought again, his inner voice louder this time. His shaking had slowed to a halt, and his core seemed to simmer.  _Don't talk to me like that._  
  
QWERTY continued to monologue gleefully, indulging in his meticulous nature.  _"YOU WILL DIE, THE SPINE, AFTER I HAVE EXPERIMENTED UPON YOU FAR ENOUGH AND HAVE NO NEED FOR YOU ANY MORE. WITH NO SPINES THERE ARE NO OBSTRUCTIONS; WITH NO WIRES YOU CANNOT CONTROL ME. I AM YOUR MASTER NOW, AND WHEN YOU CONTRACT THE VIRUS, I WILL HAVE FULL CONTROL OF YOUR BODY, AND THAT OF YOUR BROTHER AND YOUR SISTER. I WILL--"_

But QWERTY never got to finish his sentence.  
  
The Spine felt his chest warm to an inexplicable heat, his core seemingly reaching boiling point, and all of a sudden his eyes went black and green and black again and he couldn't breathe and he couldn't see and an almighty crash and a thud and a crackling monitor  
  
And, as it turned out, The Spine's arm was outstretched towards it, and fifty or so wires impaled what had once been QWERTY's screen.


End file.
